Still Growing
by We'reTheOnesWhoWrite
Summary: Rick's over protectiveness is putting a strain on his marriage. Although there is nothing Michonne loves more than her husband, she needs him to deal with a few issues before they can continue with their happy ever after. She hopes leaving can help Rick put things in perspective, but will the distance between them cause a permanent strain that can't be fixed?
1. Chapter 1

"Things break, but they can still grow" - Rick remembered when his dear friend said those words to him. That was a long time ago, yet they still resonate now as he and Michonne face a separation. Will Rick be able to move past his covetousness to make changes in order to repair the rift between them? Will his jealousy and anger get the best of him? Was his friend right, can something continue to grow after it has been broken? Join us in answering these questions as the ever-talented and charmingly witty **RichonneLvr218 on Tumblr** ( **MsWriterTee on FF** ) brings the first chapter of this saga to you.

Be sure to check out her other works on her FF page. You can find her at **MsWriterTee**.

 **-We're The Ones Who Write**

* * *

 ** _Chapter 1_**

"What are you doing?"

Rick entered the bedroom, closing the door behind him with more force than Michonne found necessary. She stuffed the extra pairs of jeans and shirts into the faded orange backpack, ignoring her husband's question. Some inquiries just didn't warrant a response.

"I see Carl found you," she said instead, hating that things had come to this, but seeing no other recourse.

"Yeah, he found me." Rick stomped over to the bed, and snatched up the backpack. "You can't be serious. You're taking him and Judith and leaving me?"

"We're giving you space."

"Don't want it," Rick tossed the bag to the corner. "I want you here, in our bed, in our house with our children. That's what I want."

"And you want Negan in that cell, you want to play protector of me because I took a beating when I was caught off guard, and you want to pretend everything is a-okay when it's not. I don't want or need any of that, Rick. I want things the way they used to be."

"It can't be that way anymore. Too much has happened and we have to adjust to the changes. That's what I'm doing."

Expressive blue eyes swept up and down her body. Michonne shuddered, feeling exposed and aroused by his pointed ogling. An enticing combination of reverence and pure lust. That look was Rick's personal switch that turned her on at will, and if there was anything that could combat it, she hadn't found it yet.

"One thing that hasn't and won't ever change is us. What we have and how we are. He pushed her locs off her shoulder. "I need you."

His lips worked their magic, trailing gingerly up and down her neck, suckling and nipping her earlobes and throbbing pulse points. Delightful shivers raced up and down her spine and goose bumps sprang.

"I love you so much, Michonne."

"I love you, too. This isn't abo…"

His tongue in her mouth served as an effective muzzle, silencing her words with its seizure of hers. Coherent thought abandoned her mind. Rick pulled her close, grinding against her, his hands molding her backside. His arousal pounded with salacious intent. Her body burned and wetness steamed her panties from the fire he ignited in her.

A single look and touch and she was putty in his hands. One of those capable hands had found its way into her jeans and between her slick folds. Her breath hitched and knees buckled with the brush of his finger against her clit. Before she knew it, their jeans were around their ankles and she was bent over the bed with Rick's rigid cock slamming deep into her heat, bringing them both to a swift, loud, and thunderous release.

When her breathing normalized and she felt her weakened legs could keep her upright after the awesome quickie, Michonne pushed her booty against Rick's pelvis and stood straight, releasing his softening member from her dripping walls. This was another reason why she had to go. Their intimacy was like a bandage that covered the wounds they didn't want to see. Their love and attraction were strong and their sex life thriving, but finding dizzying pleasure in each other's arms only prolonged avoidance. They couldn't do that anymore.

Rick groaned and pulled his face from the crook of her neck, ending his kisses.

"Where are you going?" he practically whined.

"First, I'm going to clean up, and then I need to grab a few things for Judith."

Stepping out of the jeans, she retrieved some fresh underwear from the dresser and headed to the bathroom.

"Grab a few – You're still leaving?" he said, staring wide-eyed as he pulled up his pants.

"Yes." Needing to put distance between herself and Rick's stupefied expression, Michonne closed the bathroom door behind her and washed up. Once refreshed and in her undies, she returned to the bedroom and Rick's myriad of objections.

"After what just happened here, you're just gonna walk and take Carl and Judith?" He tugged at her underwear and snaked his hand under her shirt, squeezing a satin and lace covered boob. Her nipples ached for attention, straining against the soft cups. "Give me a few more minutes and I can change your mind. I know I can."

She swatted his busy hands away, unable to concentrate with his touch adding unwanted distraction.

"You're confusing things, Rick." He snatched up and inhaled her damp panties as she reached for her discarded jeans. He stared at her intently, saying not a word, just breathing deeply while she pulled on the jeans. Michonne shook her head, he wasn't right. Rick made her like a dripping faucet. Why did she even bother putting on more panties?

She fought the urge to throw him on the bed and go for round two, and instead grabbed the backpack from the corner. They needed verbal talk, not body talk.

"What we have and how good we are together is not the problem. The problem is the choices you've made that are becoming a bigger problem for our family and could come between us. I know this, and you know it, too."

Rick stuffed the panties in his shirt pocket and plopped on the bed, scratching his fingers through his hair.

"I didn't make the choice to leave Negan alive for who knows how long before we could kill him."

Michonne lowered the bag and sat next to him.

"I know that." As the community leaders, Maggie, Ezekiel, and Natania had joined Rick in agreeing on death for Negan. That was easy. However, the additional members of the newly formed council, two members from each community and a former worker from the Sanctuary who was added as sign of good faith and inclusion, felt that killing Negan when they were all so angry and bloodthirsty would make them all no better than him.

With the start of a new civilization and no interest in being likened to this man who got such obscene pleasure in killing, a period of calm before the execution was suggested and agreed upon. With thirteen members, there would never be at tie and the majority would rule.

They were building a new world with rules they had all agreed to abide by. A return to a semblance of normalcy. But this new normal had brought on some unexpected challenges for the two men in Michonne's life, especially in regard to Negan, and she had to rein it in before it was too late.

"You didn't choose to keep him alive, but you are choosing to keep him here."

"The cell is here."

"That's an excuse. There are cells at the Sanctuary. Daryl and Sasha were held in those cells, so that doesn't work. He didn't have to be here."

"I wanted to keep my eye on him."

"Obviously, but there's more to it than just that. We talk, but not directly about this issue with Negan. Maybe it's the fact he's a dead man walking and he's done so many horrible things, but you are wrestling with something when it comes to him. I've seen it for months."

"I'm wrestling with the fact I want to kill him now. He beat Glenn and Abraham to death. He had Olivia shot dead on a whim, and though Spencer was a piece of shit, he disemboweled him right on the street." Rick pointed to the window facing the front yard. "Right outside this house, and he did all of these things in front of Carl. I want to kill that son of a bitch." Rick clenched his fingers. "I want to choke the life out of him, bring him back, and kill him again!" He pounded his fist on his thigh. His nostrils flared. "But I have to wait until I can somehow hide the glee killing that murdering bastard will bring. I swear, I don't know if that day will ever come!"

"Do you see it?"

He huffed, "What?"

"The anger. You are so angry, and you won't talk about it. Why?"

"Because it frightens me. The anger he makes me feel frightens me, and I don't want to frighten you with it. I'm dealing with it."

"Are you?"

"I'm trying. Finding out my wife is taking our children and just leaving me doesn't make it easier," he said with a sideways glance.

"This isn't easy for me, either, but it's necessary. Carl has been visiting him. Did you know that?"

Rick's wide eyes and sharp breath confirmed he didn't.

"What?" he barked.

"Yeah. I can't say how long it's been going on, but I saw him walking out of the cell, and he admitted it wasn't the first time."

"Fine. I'll talk to him."

"And say what? Carl thinks of himself as a monster. He said that about himself. And he does things, dangerous things, to prove to himself it's not true."

Michonne recalled Carl's desire to aid the stranger surrounded by walkers when they were on their way to Terminus, sneaking on the truck and riding into the Sanctuary to confront Negan, and how he almost got himself killed helping Siddiq save the souls of walkers. The souls of walkers! When Carl told her about that and then swore her to secrecy, she had never been so angry. He could've gotten himself killed and for what? Now was the time for action.

"Carl is a wonderful young man who has been forced to do some unimaginable things, and those things haunt him, but they don't make him a monster. I don't want him to think he is anything like Negan or have that thing put nonsense into his head. Negan is evil incarnate. He is the worst of the worst, and there is no good reason for Carl to be seeking him out for anything."

"Is this why you're leaving?"

"That's part of the reason. Even with Negan locked away, I cannot have Carl and Judith around that man."

"What's the other reason?"

"You. Rick, you need to confront this anger Negan is fueling. It's about more than waiting for his death. We all hate him, but he is going to die. That's done. This should be bringing you peace, but it's not, and that tells me it's not just about Negan. I think it might be about Shane."

Rick sighed deeply but said not a word. His silence spoke for itself. She was definitely on to something.

"You've only mentioned him to me once, the day Negan first showed up here, and I don't think it was by chance. I wish I could help you with this, but I know I can't. What I can do is give you space. You need it. We need it."

"Why do we need it?"

"Because you once said we could lose each other and still go on. This separation will test that."

Rick groaned. "Come on! When I said that…"

Her grunt ceased his words. "It doesn't matter why it was said, you needed to say it, and now we need to put everything on the line in this fight for us that we did in our fight with Negan. You've been hovering over me since the beating, and while I appreciate your concern, I don't need to be coddled or protected. It was a little sweet at first, but it stopped being that a long time ago, especially when you strut around like some prize rooster."

"You're punishing me for loving you?"

"This is not punishment." She gazed at his crotch. The recent memory of his thick cock sliding in and out of her throbbing pussy so tangible it felt like it was still happening. "You would know punishment, Rick Grimes, and this is not that."

He swallowed audibly. "Why does that sound like a threat?"

Michonne shrugged. "You tell me." Several quiet seconds passed. She enjoyed their lovemaking way too much to ever use holding out as punishment, but if he could have his 'turn on' switch she needed something to balance the playing field. "I'm doing this for the children, for you, and for us. Carl and Judith need to be away from Negan, you need to shine some light into the darkness you're battling, and you need to get a hold of your over-protectiveness of me so I can be me. It's overbearing."

"Are you going to the Kingdom?"

"Uh-huh."

He scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"I am working closely with the rebuilding and defense efforts, so it's the logical place. I can get up early, finish late, and not have to worry about driving back. It gives you less to worry about in regard to my well-being."

"Is that the only reason you're going there?"

She laughed derisively, shaking her head. "I am not doing this with you. I explained why I'm leaving."

"Why don't you see it?"

"What?"

"The way men look at you. Especially that new guy over there. The way they undress you with their eyes." Rick grunted. "You say I strut around like a prize rooster, and you're right, I do. Because I have the prize and they don't. So, yeah, I'm proud and cocky as hell. I have reason to be. But if you leave…"

"I am leaving."

Rick winced. "Michonne."

"But I'm leaving for our good. I don't want anyone but you, but I also know we need this time apart," she cupped his cheek and raked her fingers through the thick stubble of his beard. He sighed, nuzzling her hand. "I love you, Rick. This will make us stronger."

"Being away from you doesn't strengthen me, it worries me."

"Carl being near Negan worries me. I need to focus on him, and you need to focus on your demons."

"And if I can't?" The moments of silence spoke the possible fears neither wanted to vocalize. "I love you."

"That means you can do it," she softly kissed his lips and held him close, fighting the tears burning her eyes for release, "We can do this."

"For how long?" Rick clung to her, his voice low, raspy from the tears he was sniffling away.

She held him tighter, succumbing to her tears. "Not a minute longer than necessary."

~*~*~*~/~*~*~*~

"Are you okay?"

Michonne kept her eyes on the road as she considered Carl's question. The simple answer was no, but this family didn't do simple.

"I'm dealing," she said.

"That's not an answer."

"But it's the truth."

"I'm surprised we left. I thought Dad had changed your mind. It sounded like…" Carl stopped abruptly and cleared his throat.

Michonne turned to him, his flushed cheeks giving away what his words didn't. She turned back to the road. It seemed Carl had heard them. She had been absolutely mortified when Carl and nearly a half dozen of their friends saw her and Rick stumble out of his bedroom half dressed after their first night together, but they were married now and she'd long gotten over it. Now Carl was the one always embarrassed. She and Rick tried to keep things down, but they clearly weren't having a lot of success.

"I'm not angry at Rick. I just…We need some time apart."

"Because I visit Negan?"

"I don't understand why you do that."

"You want me to explain?"

 _Hell yeah!_ Michonne nodded.

"I would love some clarity, yes." She checked the rearview mirror. Judith had fallen asleep. A couple of minutes in the car was better than a lullaby for that little one. The drive to the Kingdom would be at least another hour, so they would have some time without the three-year-old interrupting.

"It's not out of respect or anything and it's only been a few times," Carl said. "I want that to be understood."

"Okay."

"A few weeks before the world changed, there was a special assembly at school where prisoners came to visit. They'd shared stories and talked about how life was before and how it was for them now. They wanted us to see what could happen if we made the wrong choices. I thought I would never forget it, but then the world changed, and I not only forgot, I changed with it. I talked back, wandered off, lied. Losing Mom made doing the wrong thing easier to do. But I had Dad and then you came along, and you both guided me. Still, even with you two, sometimes I'm afraid I'll choose the wrong path again. Negan is horrible. He keeps me scared straight. I don't - I don't want to be a disappointment to you and Dad. To embrace the monster in me."

"Carl?" Michonne brought the car to stop, remembering Judith sleeping in the back the one thing that kept her from slamming on the brakes. She threw the car into park. "Listen to me right now and don't you ever forget this. You are not a monster and you can never and will never be a disappointment to your father and me. We love you." She brought him into her arms, holding him close, kissing his forehead. "You and Judith are everything good and wonderful in this world and nothing will ever change that." She pulled away, holding his face. "Do you hear me?"

Carl nodded. "I hear you. I don't need Negan to remind me of what's right, right?"

"You will never need him for anything ever. Tough choices are a way of life now, but your goodness will direct your choices, because that's what's in you," she said, tapping her finger into his chest. "Evil is what's in Negan, he's going to die, and the best of this world will continue."

"If we're going to continue with the best, does that mean we're going back home?"

Michonne put the car in drive and continued down the road.

"Not yet. There's work to be done at the Kingdom, and I want to help get it done."

"Without being under Dad's or someone else's watchful eye, you mean?"

"You've noticed?"

"I only have one eye, but, yes, I've noticed. It's because he loves you so much, Michonne. I was with him when he thought you'd fallen from that roof."

"But I didn't die, and I'm okay. I need him to see that, and this time apart will do it. There are a few things Rick needs to deal with by himself, too. You don't worry about us, Carl. Everything will work out."

"Will it?" he said, neither looking nor sounding very confident.

"Yeah." She nodded and then nodded more. "It's gonna be fine."

~*~*~*~/~*~*~*~

Rick stayed rooted in the same spot beside the gate for who knows how long. He'd watched Michonne and the children drive away from their home and him. It needed to be done. Michonne had said that several times. Hearing those words from her beautiful lips had been hard, it cut him to the quick, but living with this new reality would be his biggest challenge. He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out those black panties, breathing in her scent. He grew hard and sad.

She was right. He'd been overbearing, but he was motivated by love. Those horrifying moments when he'd thought she'd fallen to her death continued to haunt him. The short-lived relief at discovering it wasn't her was replaced with the new horror upon finding her nearly beaten to death. She was fierce and capable, he knew that, but he also knew those close calls had been too much. He couldn't risk losing her, so he held on too tightly. As a result, here he stood all alone, with only Michonne's panties and her scent his comfort. He sighed. _How the hell did this happen?_

Negan. That bastard had taken so much from them, and as he awaited death, he was still taking. Again, Michonne was right. He saw shades of Shane in Negan. Not the old friend he'd loved so much, but the lost soul Shane had become at the end. The crazed man that Rick had been forced to kill when his dear friend confronted him with a loaded gun and plans to take Rick's place as husband, father, and leader. Negan encompassed who Shane was at the end. A man who thought he had all the answers and wanted what he wanted when and how he wanted it.

He didn't want to kill Shane, if he could've waited, if he could've put it off, he would have, but he had no choice. Shane had forced his hand. And here was Negan, a man Rick knew he needed to kill, yet he had to wait to make it happen. To find a way to lessen the thrill ending this man would bring, to somehow find it as simply a duty and not an anticipated honor. Unlike his response to killing Shane, Rick knew he wouldn't shed a single tear for this man. Negan wasn't even a man. He was a heartless snake in the grass who had killed indiscriminately.

Rick had killed many people over the years, but he had never gotten pleasure in taking a life. Negan had changed that. Rick relished the idea of killing him. That was a fact. So, what did that make him?

Getting joy in killing was Negan's wheelhouse, and here he was walking that same road. He had never seen this waiting period as anything more than torture. But when Michonne left with Carl and Judith, forcing him to confront these feelings and Negan's role in their lives, he reasoned this torture could be salvation. The thing that would keep him from going down the rabbit hole and becoming the evil he sought to end. Rick returned the panties to his pocket and started walking and thinking.

The day Negan entered their lives with his full force had started like a normal day. Rick had woken up with Michonne in his arms and life on a string. His family and friends were close and safe, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so carefree. It seemed the moment Michonne left their bed that things started to unravel. One thing after the other. Fear and uncertainty had plagued him throughout the day, what had already happened and the unknown on the horizon that was sure to make things worse, and when the sun rose the next day, life as he knew it had been forever altered. Gone was carefree living, Negan was in charge.

The days that had followed had passed like years. Rick had never been so broken, so completely hopeless, but like the miracle she was, Michonne had reached him when he was at his lowest point, making whole his broken spirit and reigniting his will to fight.

Later that same night, before Gabriel and with Carl and Judith, they'd promised themselves to each other forever. Michonne always knew what he needed, even when he didn't. She was right; he needed this space she'd given him. This time, that had seemed like forever, had already made things clearer. Rick stopped walking when he found himself at Negan's cell. He knew what needed to be done.


	2. Chapter 2

The second chapter of this tale comes from the creative mind of **thematsaidwelcome79**. Be it fluffy moments that make your heart swell or pulse-pounding smutty heat that makes whatever ails you well, however you want your Richonne, faithful readers can attest to the addictive talents of this sensational scribe. Sit back and settle in as she tills the fertile ground of Richonne's love with all of its emotional entanglements in the next installment.

Please be sure to check out her other works on her FF page.

 **-We're The Ones Who Write**

* * *

 _Chapter 2_

Rick opened his eyes slowly, squinting at the sun that beamed through the bedroom window. He could hear the sounds of hammers and saws, all the rebuilding efforts in full swing, going on with or without him. He rolled to his right to glance at the clock on the nightstand. All he could make out was that the hour was 7. The minutes were being covered by the black panties of Michonne's that he refused to throw in the wash since they still smelled of her.

He fell asleep with the scent in his nose and dreamed of waking up to her in his arms with his dick buried deep within her warm wet walls. He'd had the same dream for six nights in a row. His morning hard on, going ignored, not satisfied with the poor stand-in of his hand. He rolled to his back and stared at the ceiling, mentally preparing himself for the day ahead. He thought about all the rebuilding projects that still needed to be done. He couldn't think of anything pressing that he would be needed for at the early time so he humored himself with his shit list. He'd been making it since the moment Michonne drove away. Negan was at the top of that list, followed by Shane, everyone at the Kingdom, the breeze, rain and the last name listed was Peter on the run crew, because he asked too many damn questions.

He lazily got out of bed, and thought back to five days ago. He had fooled his mind into thinking he was okay without Michonne for the first two days, but that third day his mind couldn't keep up the charade anymore. He walked the streets of Alexandria, inspecting and checking on progress, liking what he saw, it was when he went to check the chapel, that his mind started to wonder. That day Gabriel almost ended up on his shit list too.

"Morning Rick."

"Morning Doug. How are things going?" Rick greeted the crew chief and looked around at all the progress that the community had made. With all hands on deck, they were about 90% done with the biggest projects.

"On schedule. The chapel's almost done. They completed the gazebo rebuild this morning," Doug waved his clipboard in the direction of the gazebo. "A few of the women on the paint crew are painting it now, the way you requested. They should be done soon."

Rick looked up at the sky to make sure there were no dark clouds on the horizon. The day after Michonne left it rained for two hours, throwing the cleanup off. Rick watched the rain trickle down the windows from his kitchen and couldn't help but think back to the groups time on the road and the day the rainstorm turned into a tornado.

The rain fell down on Michonne's already glowing skin making it glisten with a sparkling hue, like an ethereal halo that God had made just for her. He couldn't just stand there and watch her, but he noticed how the drops of rain rolled down her chest and disappeared underneath her purple tank top, to its destination only a select few had ever been. He was proud to say she had chosen him as one of the few, but as the rain fell, he couldn't help but wonder if the same rain shower he was watching was also falling on her, raindrops touching her in ways he longed to and hadn't been able to since she left.

"Good, good...and the windows?" Rick asked focusing on the man in front of him.

"They're bringing the rest of them in about an hour. We're lucky that all the houses in this area all use the same size, they should all be installed by the end of the day."

"Good," Rick placed his hands on his waist, just above his gun belt, "And that special project?"

"You'll have to talk to Morgan about that. He hasn't been back to give me any updates."

"Alright. Thanks. I'm gonna go check the chapel. Gabriel's in there right?"

"Should be, he hasn't left since we started. Doesn't want anyone messing up anything. He's been blessing everyone's hands and we all have to watch our mouths while we work. You should have seen Frank trying to think of chapel friendly words after he hit his thumb with a hammer yesterday."

"His chapel, his rules I guess. I'm heading over there now to see how things look. Come find me if you need me." Rick turned to make the short trek to the chapel, greeting passing ASZ members along the way. There was a group of people in front of the chapel planting flowers and edging the flowerbed with rocks. It was really starting to look like it did before.

"Good morning Rick. What do you think?" Gabriel greeted Rick and then walked in a small circle with his hands behind his back, inspecting the chapel for the tenth time that morning. "They've done a great job."

"They have." Rick agreed, looking Gabriel over and noticing his very clean black suit, which meant he hadn't been helping with the rebuild other than giving out orders. "So everything's to your satisfaction then?"

"It is. Look," Gabriel pointed upward, "They even replaced the stained glass. Did you know Ms. Morris studied art? She did all this. It's beautiful. Hands touched by God."

"It really is something. I'm glad you like it," Rick said, genuinely happy for Father Gabriel and his chapel. The people of Alexandria needed him and his spiritual guidance.

"I do. Now if I can just get Janice to stop dropping eff bombs in the Lord's house, it will be perfect." Gabriel looked over at Janice. "Excuse me. I think I hear her again." Rick watched him walk away, giving him the opportunity to scan the small chapel on his own, it looked good as new. His eyes stopped at the wooden podium, one of the few things left untouched by the Saviours. He couldn't help his smile as the memory of Michonne and him at that podium came to his mind.

" _We're gonna get in so much trouble if we're caught in here."_

" _Oh you're already in trouble darlin'," Rick placed his hands on Michonne's waist and pulled her into him so she could feel just what that trouble was. The hardness she felt on her ass cheek had her moaning softly and Rick's tongue on her neck had her groaning loudly. "Just put your hands right here." She gripped both sides of the podium and her head fell back to Rick's chest when she felt his fingers in the front of her panties. He was such an expert at getting to her wetness, she didn't even feel or hear her zipper come down. "I want all of this." She felt his fingers slide through her folds, closing a little when her throbbing clit was in between them._

" _Oh god."_

" _We're in the right place for you to call him." His voice in her ear did the same thing to her body as his fingers were doing._

" _Fuck!" She gripped the podium tighter when she felt his fingers dip inside her, pumping in and out until she was practically shaking with the anticipation of her orgasm. "Right there. Yes… " Before she knew it, her pants where around her ankles and Rick's dick was deep inside her pussy. His fingers had her so worked up, she was cumming on his dick after a couple of strokes._

" _That's it. Cum on this dick Michonne." He didn't stop or slow down. She was so deliciously wet and hot, he fucked her through her first orgasm hoping to topple her with another._

" _Shit Rick. That dick feels so good. Baby don't stop. Fuck this pussy. Fuck… ahhh… " He gripped her hips tighter and felt her pussy squeeze around his dick._

" _You like that baby?"_

" _Yes! Oh yes!"_

" _Show me." She knew what that meant; he wanted to feel her cum. He wanted to feel her body go still as the waves of euphoria swept over her body. He wanted to hear the gushing sound her pussy made when he stroked it into submission, making her cum on command as hard as he wanted her to._

" _Ohh… right there… yes! Rick...Rick… ohh…," And just like he told her to, she erupted. Covering his balls with her sweet essence, his dick slid in and out of her faster with the added wetness, he could feel her knees start to weaken and he held her around the waist with his arm. Feeling the beginnings of his climax, he fucked her harder and deeper. The tip of his dick aimed for the deepest part of her pussy, and he touched it over and over, determined to shoot his seed in that exact spot when he exploded within her._

" _Fuck… Michonne…," He grunted against her back._

" _Cum for me Rick. Fill me up." He held her tighter against him and let go._

" _Ahhh… shit."_

"Rick, everything okay over here?" Gabriel asked, bringing Rick to the present. He hoped his jeans were hiding the evidence of his daydream.

"Yeah," he scratched his beard and blew out a breath. "Yeah, everything's fine. It looks good. I'm glad that podium made it. I gotta go check on... some other stuff." Rick turned and walked away without a bye, but took one last look at the podium before blowing out a breath and leaving the chapel.

* * *

It was the fifth day that the breeze ended up on his shit list. He knew it sounded crazy, but he didn't care. In his mind, it belonged there. He had his reasons.

"Hey Rick, you come to help out?" Jonathan asked.

"Yeah, what do y'all need?"

"We're just about to erect the west side sniper tower. Need all the hands we can get."

"I can do that." They walked over to the tower laying on it's side on the ground and them with the strength of fifteen men, the base of the tower was uprighted and bolted onto the ground. Rick stayed and worked with the crew to build the platform for the tower after. He needed to stay busy to keep his mind from wandering to his wife.

He wondered what she was doing while he was hammering nails into 2x4's. If she was doing the same thing at the Kingdom. Sweating like him, body aching. If the breeze that was cooling his sweaty body was also cooling hers. Then he was jealous of that same breeze since it got to touch Michonne and he didn't.

Was she thinking about him as much as he was her? Nothing about their "separation" had been easy. When he watched her drive away with the kids in the car, he just knew that she'd be back the next day, but when the sun rose and set on the third day, he started to think the worst. That maybe she'd found the happiness she sought within the walls of the Kingdom. Even if she said she didn't want anyone but him, how could she stay away like she was. There had to be something or someone occupying her time and keeping her from coming home to him.

"Last board Rick," Jonathan shouted.

"Huh?"

"It's the last one. We're all done. Thanks for all your help."

"Oh yeah, no problem."

"Looks like it's lunchtime." They both looked down to see a few members of the community covering picnic tables with tablecloths and setting food on top of them. The men tiredly climbed down from the tower and walked over to the hand washing station before going to fix plates to eat.

Rick sat and ate, talking to whoever was near about the rebuilding efforts. No one dared ask about Michonne and the kids. They knew she was helping the Kingdom, but it had been days since anyone had seen the Grimes clan, and the signs of distress were starting to show on Rick's face.

He stared at the apple next to his plate and he could almost taste the sweet juice that ran down Michonne's chin after she would take a bite. He wondered if she was eating one right now. He took the apple in his hand and went to throw his plate away, no longer wanting to hear the voices of the others.

He walked along the wall, needing something to distract him, he inspected all the steel and wooden posts, checking for the tiniest of cracks or flaws. He stopped when he got to the back of the community, out of eyeshot from most of the houses.

He remembered Michonne leading him there one night under the guise of needing to check the wall for damage. When he placed both his hands on the cold steel to push on it and test its stability, Michonne lowered herself to her knees, unzipping his pants and capturing his dick in her mouth before he could register what was going on. She took all of him in her mouth and moaned her enjoyment as she did.

He wanted to throw around a few choice words to tell her how good her mouth felt, how he loved how warm it was, how wet it was, how impressively and expertly she took his cock, letting it touch the back of her throat and the way she looked at him with those deep brown eyes of hers. He wasn't sure what it was, but that night her mouth gave no fucks about giving him time to get ready. He watched her cheeks cave in, heard those slurping sounds and then felt her hand on his balls, he was done for. He gripped the wall as hard as he could and watched as Michonne sucked down every drop of cum that he spewed into her beautiful mouth, swallowing and then licking the tip of his dick for good measure. She stood up and continued walking, leaving Rick scrambling to find his bearings and his ability to walk.

Rick let out a loud sigh and looked to the sky, silently asking anyone above for strength. He walked away from the wall feeling tired and more frustrated than ever.

* * *

On the sixth day, he found any and every project he could to focus on and take his mind off of Michonne. For hours he hammered, swept, painted, sawed and inspected all over Alexandria. He was worn out and beyond tired, but he didn't want to go home and hear the quiet of his house, so he walked to the gazebo, where he sat down and took a bite of the apple he got earlier. The flavor of it not as sweet as a bite taken after Michonne, but it would do for now. He chuckled to himself looking around at the newly built structure while he wiped the juice from his chin. It was painted bright white with purple paint on the roof. A surprise for Michonne, her favorite color. He wondered how long it would take her to notice. The last time they were in the gazebo, they weren't looking at the paint.

" _I'm gonna take these tight ass pants off you."_

" _Now why would you do that Rick?" Michonne went to sit down, but Rick stopped her with a hand on her ass. He sat down giving him the perfect view of her backside._

" _I've watched you walk around in 'em all day, hugging that ass more than should be allowed by the law."_

" _Good thing we don't have laws anymore." Michonne huffed out, feeling Rick's body heat against her skin. He reached around and unfastened the single button at the top of her pants and started to peel them down her legs._

" _What's your plan once they're off?"_

" _This..." His hand dipped into her pants and his thumb rubbed her clit over her panties." And my tongue need to spend some quality time together. But first…" He sat her on his lap and slipped two fingers inside her slippery wet pussy. Her eyes fluttered closed and her body relaxed into his while his fingers began a steady rhythm, strumming her core, making her wetter, the delicious sound getting louder._

" _Oh yes...Rick...fuck…" He removed his fingers, leaving her feeling empty and frustrated that he stopped so soon._

" _Kick those boots off and lay back." Michonne bit her bottom lip and looked around. It was dark and quiet and they hadn't seen a soul since they'd been out. The throbbing of her clit won out against the rightness of her mind, she was too far gone anyways. She took off her boots, helped Rick pull her pants and panties down, then stood up to let him stand in front of her. Before she could get into position like he told her to, Rick pulled her into a kiss. Holding her by the waist and then moving his hands to her naked ass to squeeze the warm smooth flesh there. He didn't stop until he felt her knees go weak and heard her start to moan._

" _You're gonna get us caught. Shh…," he pressed down on her hips to get her to sit, then lifted her left leg placing her foot on the top of the bench. He used his fingers again to play in her folds, teasing her. He loved her face when she wanted to be fucked and he was taking his time. Those eyes of his turned a shade of lagoon with a hint cocky, she loved every bit of it._

" _Rick…"_

" _What? You're so impatient." He smiled and watched her roll her eyes. Before she could start to beg for his tongue on her pussy, he was licking and sucking and making her head spin. She pinched her lips together to keep from screaming but she still made sounds. Rick put his fingers in her mouth to muffle her moans. She sucked and he sucked. She sucked and he licked._

 _Every taste bud on his tongue was covered in Michonne. He swept his tongue over every fold of her pussy and then used the tip of his tongue to write his name on the inside of her walls. When he got tired of hearing her muffled moans, he slipped his fingers out of her mouth and into her pussy while he sucked on her clit. She couldn't hold her satisfying sounds in, she moaned and called his name and then when she felt that tingle in her belly, she held her breath and gripped the side of the bench, letting out a long slow moan as she peaked, giving Rick all he'd been working for. He lapped at her pussy, drinking in all her sweetness as she used her hips to grind herself against his face, coming down from one of the best places he'd ever taken her._

" _Rick Grimes, I love you more than you can imagine."_

"Hey Rick."

"Morgan."

"We got it done."

"Good."

"Thanks for trusting me with this Rick. I know it's hard, but it was the right thing to do." Rick had tasked Morgan with using one of the houses a few blocks away for a jail. Making sure he knew to reinforce the cell that would hold Negan. Morgan being the only one he thought could handle such a job, the only one he trusted to get it done right. He had a crew of ten men and they got the job done in four days. "We're gonna move him in the morning before sunrise. We'll be real quiet about it."

"Tape his mouth shut. He doesn't do anything quietly."

"We already have the roll of tape." Morgan smiled and nodded his head slowly.

"I'm glad you're doing this...better you do it than me."

"You don't think you could do it?"

"No….I don't think I could. After what I've seen him do, it would be so much easier to just put a bullet through his brain."

"You can't do that Rick. Not with him."

"I know, but I still want to ask why the fuck not? It would be as easy as breathing, Morgan. You remember what that felt like?" Rick looked at Morgan's eyes to see if any recognition could be seen. "Being able to watch the life drain from that mother fuckers eyes, would bring me such a sense of peace."

"That peace doesn't last, Rick. Why are you keeping him alive anyways?"

"I made promises. The council agreed on it. I've got Carl, Michonne and Judith to think about. I can't have Carl thinking he's a monster... I can't have him knowing that I am one."

"Your family is everything Rick. Maybe if I still had mine, I would be in the same mindset as you. Doesn't seem so bad sometimes…. the trade off." Morgan's somber look as he thought of Jenny and Duane was heart wrenching for Rick.

"I can't have my family here... with him here. Negan is keeping me from them, and I can't have that anymore. Moving him away from here is the safest thing for both of us." Rick took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "I've done it before you know."

"Done what?"

"Killed the man who tried to take my family from me. It was one of the hardest things I've ever done, but it was either him or me. He was my best friend and he kept my family safe when all this shit first started, I was grateful for that and told him as much. But then he had already taken up with Carl's mother and didn't want to give them up when I found them. This thing with Negan is the same thing, I have to get rid of him somehow since I can't kill him."

"This isn't anything like that, Rick. Michonne has been with you since the day you two met. You, Carl and Judith...that's all she's about." Rick nodded his head, hearing Michonne's voice say she's still with him. "She's not her, she would never do that to you." He knew Morgan was right, and then the memory of Hershel's words came to his mind; " _Things break, but they can still grow."_ The old wise man's words were definitely ringing true. Things might be broken, but Rick refused to let his family stay that way. If letting go of his anger was the superglue that would put them back together, then he'd figure out a way to do it.

"They're all I got. I'm nothing without them. I need them here," Rick pointed to the ground for emphasis. "In Alexandria, in our house, sleeping in the beds that belong to them. My wife, my kids… here with me, where they belong."

Determined that today would be his last day taking a cold shower, Rick decided that if Michonne wasn't going to come back to him, he'd have to go get her, but first he needed to make a stop.

* * *

"Look who it is...Sheriff Rick! You come to welcome me to my new abode? It's really nice in here. I can't believe I get to break in the brand new digs."

"You done?"

"Why are you here Rick? You come to kill me? Doing it while I'm behind these bars is a real pussy move."

"You are the expert on pussy movies. Negan. Nah I didn't come to kill you. Just came to talk."

"I have to say Rick, a talk was not what I was expecting when you walked in here. So what's the topic? The weather? Sports? The deficit? How's that boy of yours?"

"Just shut the fuck up so I can tell you why you're still alive."

"I know, I know...you're being the bigger person and all that. Very commendable."

"It would be too easy to kill you. Even if I dragged it out and killed you slowly, it would still be too easy."

"And you don't take the easy route right?"

"Not anymore."

"How honorable... So only long bumpy routes for you now? What changed?"

"Demons. I'd rather not have yours haunting me."

"Oh… you know I would right?" Negan chuckled, hiding his relief that he wasn't dying that day. "I wonder if Lucille will haunt with me."

"Can ashes haunt?"

"You burned her?!"

"Yeah. It was pretty fun." Rick smiled, wanting Negan to know how much he enjoyed watching his bat burn.

"You should've just killed me." Negan said soberly, looking down at the concrete floor.

"Nah. You'll live for a long time and you'll get to hear the voices of everyone living their lives outside these walls, happy and no longer controlled by you."

"So visiting hours on Sundays? Tell Carl to come by and see me. I miss our talks.".

"No. He won't be coming by. The next time he sees your face will be after you're dead. You won't be seeing very many faces at all. What would be the point?"

"So it's just me and my thoughts then."

"Yea… Figured you could think about the things you've done to people. How you hurt people...killed people just for your own enjoyment."

"I was protecting people!"

"You weren't protecting anyone! You raped women. You beat people into submission. Husbands in front of wives! Sons in front of mothers! You created widows for boxes of spaghetti and jars of olives."

"Come on….I…" Rick cut him off, no longer able to tolerate the sound of his voice.

"Now you have nothing but this cell... People to protect you now, and your thoughts to keep you company. I won't be back to see you. I've got better things to do and a family to do them with." Rick left the cell feeling lighter and more hopeful about bringing his family home. He was able to control his anger and didn't put a bullet in Negan's skull. His hand didn't even touch his Colt the whole time he was in there. He felt proud of himself for being able to do it. To basically wash his hands of Negan and trust in what the council had decided. Negan was no longer a threat to anyone locked up in his cell. Rick was able to find peace in that, now he needed to show Michonne, so that she would come back home.


	3. Chapter 3

Bringing the third installment of this story of growth and restoration to life is the astonishing comewithnattah. If you're familiar with her work, you know that she can lay you down softly with her eloquently sweet words, and then have you laid out hard and fast with her sizzling sweaty smut. She always has a treat in store for us when it comes to Rick and Michonne, and she does no less than that with this chapter.

Be sure to check out her other stories on her FF page.

 **-We're The Ones Who Write**

* * *

Chapter 3

Rick took another ridiculous chug from the bottle of red wine. He had emptied his liquor cabinet of everything harder the first few nights of enduring his empty house. He couldn't ask Daryl for any of his supply without getting a lecture on how Michonne was right. So, Michonne's wine was all he had left and it wasn't doing the job. He wasn't as drunk as he needed to be and the smooth dark curves of the bottle only made him think about her more.

He closed his eyes and drained the last of the merlot. Bottoms up, he stumbled over her ankle boots sitting neatly on the staircase landing.

He muttered a mix of obscenities and snatched up the pair of size seven's.

A pretty memory of the first time he woke up to those boots on the side of his bed bloomed in his mind. It was the same day he realized his bed was now _their_ bed. It was also the same morning Rick found that spot on Michonne's hip. The spot that was like the button on a nuke if he touched it lightly, squeezed it roughly, kissed it sweetly or sucked it slowly.

A morning when there was nothing more fascinating to Michonne than his gravity-defying hardon. Her fingernails lazily skated through the thin dark happy trail on his abdomen until she was handling him like an expert beneath the sheets. He was actually losing any credibility as a patient lover.

"It ain't a toy, Michonne," he had rasped on a edgy groan and tried to counter her control of him with a little smack-talk, "That's heavy machinery. You could end up hurt if you play around with it."

When he flipped her on her back and started on a focused track down her body with his mouth and fingers, it was strictly in the interest of self-preservation. His big flexing hands were clutching her waist, keeping her still while he distracted her with a bold and sloppy performance on her center stage. When he slid a hand away from the swell of her hip, her sharp inhale made him take more notice of the seemingly normal spot.

He re-assigned his fingers to stroking the tight walls of her perfect, pink canal while his tongue took over creating a map from her nipple to the underside of her breast to her ribcage to her hip. A tepid graze of his teeth made her shiver. An earnest bite made her bolt upright on reflex. And as his fingers worked in tandem with that chunk of suckled skin, she came on the curling pads of his middle and forefinger with an intensity that pushed her whole body to the brink of physical shock.

He found himself feeling similarly impacted when she said she was leaving. He couldn't know how his present expression matched her vacant stare from that morning as he stomped tragically up the steps. His shoulder sliding along the wall was all that kept him from toppling over. His fist holding on for dear life to the black satin of the panties she wore the day she left.

Every night, he did his best to prolong the trip upstairs in hopes that she'd walk through the front door before he got to their lonely bedroom even though he knew her well enough to know she wouldn't.

Reaching the top of the stairs, he turned down the hall and faced three open doors. The quiet in the house was eerie. No ball bouncing off the walls in Carl's room. No chatter from Judith rallying her dolls for battle. No sound of Michonne's nightly shower.

He stood over disheveled sheets and stared at her mis-shaped pillow. It was losing her smell and, though soft, the downy innards had no warmth or jiggle. He could squeeze as tight as he wanted and it wouldn't giggle like she used to. It was impossible to go on with such an inadequate stand in.

Rick woke up the next morning to the sight of the wire cat sculpture on her nightstand staring him down. It's scrap metal brow seemed to be bent with a judgemental scowl, wordlessly interrogating him on her whereabouts. He rolled over and was met with the white dress she wore to a birthday party two weeks ago, suspended from a hanger on the closet door. It too was staring him down. The deep plunge of the neckline grievously hallow.

She was a vision when she had it on. She floated in that lacey cream. She had danced so politely with him in the grass with everyone else around. But when they got home, the G-rated two-step she performed for community consumption and the silly bounce she did with Judith, morphed into the dirtiest, most erotic grind. The circles she made with the roundness under that flowy fabric had him so hard he was sure her backside would bruise.

Now a breeze from the open window lifted and swirled the skirt of the long garment like a wicked little spectre with a clear directive for Rick to wave the white flag. He sat up on the bed, feet on the floor.

"Fuck…" he grumbled as his head rocked from his irresponsible drinking last night. Squinting from the sunlight in the room, he took a step towards the bathroom and tripped again on the same shoes that he'd nearly killed himself with the night before.

Half amused that he could barely take a step without being reminded of her and wholly wrecked by her absence, Rick decided to put an end to his misery. He decided to laugh instead of curse or cry. It was a laugh that bordered on manic.

He grumbled about her affect on him, "...be the fuckin' death of me..." He scratched through his head and rubbed a frustrated hand over his bearded face as he turned on the faucet to shave and put his best face forward.

XXXXX

"Alexandria's noble protector! Welcome!"

"Ezekiel."

"I have been expecting your arrival. For the light of Alexandria's lady must surely beckon you to her glowing warmth." The king gave Rick a generous smile and an outstretched hand in greeting. "I must say, I thought to see you sooner."

Rick bristled at Ezekiel's words and adjusted the duffle bag strap on his shoulder as he returned a firm handshake. He would have been there sooner but ensuring Negan wouldn't be a problem took some time. He'd decided when he came, it wouldn't be for a visit. He'd be making amends and bringing his family home.

"Yeah, well, some important thangs had to be taken care of," Rick said without making eye contact.

"Indeed," Ezekiel extended his arm to the pathway ahead, inviting Rick to accompany him, presumably to Michonne. "But now that we have her, giving her up will be a Herculean task. She is such a boon to our walls. A most valuable asset. Pray, tell me, what would it take for you to let us keep her?" Ezekiel said in jest.

Rick did not find it funny. His face turned into a feral sneer, but Ezekiel didn't notice Rick narrowing his tempestuous blues. Before he could tell Ezekiel that keeping his wife would take the sequel to all out war and stepping over his cold dead body, a man younger than them both came jogging up.

"We're all done, Your Majesty. They sent me to bring you for a look."

"Ah, yes! As if on cue. Rick, come set your eyes upon the miracles our goddess has performed."

Irritated as he was by Ezekiel's out of pocket remarks, Rick was curious what Michonne had been doing during her stay there. He knew she was the MVP in Alexandria. But he wondered what "miracles" she could have performed in less than a week that made Ezekiel unknowingly risk his life to keep her there.

The first stop was the glass atrium of the old high school that now served as the Kingdom's main building. The light from the tall windows was partially blocked by a towering vertical garden. Little green buds and leaves grew out of empty plastic bottles hung from a trellis from the ceiling down. Tall ladders were placed between to cultivate and harvest the columns of herbs and healing plants. The sun filled the room from the other three walls of windows.

"Lift your gaze to our inspired installation. Impressive, is it not? A testament to a keen mind. Every bit of it is the lady Michonne's ingenuity. She oversaw it's construction and under her direction, our young Parker here and his team of willing laborers were able to complete this project in one day."

Ezekiel swept a grand hand toward a proud trio of strong good-looking citizens of the Kingdom. A little girl tugged at his shirttail and stole his attention as soon as he ended his sentence. He knelt to enjoy her company and left Rick to tour the new garden on his own.

"Oh yeah?" Rick replied, looking up at the makeshift "pots" of soil and greenery. He looked back at the group of men, whose eyes were also raised admiring their handiwork.

Each of the guys was literally more handsome than the last. Like an episode of the Dating Game, the three men in their 20's stood grinning with their straight white smiles and tanned skin. Rick narrowed his eyes at them, unnerved at the thought of Michonne spending all day with a bunch of, in his estimation, _horny assholes_. Rick wanted to make them spit out all those pearly whites.

"You guys did a good job," he told them instead and they brought their attention back to him.

"We just used these," one guy said, with more cockiness than Rick would've sanctioned, he pulled back his short sleeve tee from his solid flexed bicep. Rick seethed as the darker skinned guy joked innocently. "This was really all Michonne. She's something else," he said almost bashfully, as if trying hard to conceal a crush. "She's so beautiful it's kind of hard to keep focused on the task at hand."

The other men on the garden crew grinned and agreed and Rick took a deep breath to keep himself from lunging at all three of them in a rage.

"If she wasn't married," the white guy with blond dreadlocks began, "I would definitely see if I couldn't persuade her."

Before Rick could say anything the first man piped up, "She's married to Rick Grimes, buddy. You might want to rethink that. He's a killer." This man's race was a little more ambiguous. But what was strikingly clear was how his defined jaw and curly coif would be enough for any woman to drool over.

Rick began to realize that the men didn't recognize him clean shaven. They were ignoring him completely. His hands mindlessly became fists as he listened to them talk.

"So am I," said the blonde guy, claiming himself equal to the legend of Rick Grimes. "It's hard to find somebody that's not a killer, nowadays. I've seen him a couple times. He's a hundred years old! Face full of gray hair..." The other guys laughed. "Maybe he's got arthritis in his trigger finger. Maybe his gorgeous wife is tired of scavenging for Bengay…"

"Or maybe Rick Grimes shaved and his aim is still surgical." Rick spoke up, his Python cocked as he demonstrated his aim. "Maybe I got you right in my sights and there ain't a plant on that wall that'a heal you if I pull this trigger."

The men stood frozen and speechless. Ezekiel stood up to intervene when he noticed the little girl he'd been talking to was staring with wide eyes at the man with the menacing head tilt.

"Rick! Is everything okay, my friend?" The king asked, this time extending a nervous hand to steady his volatile comrade.

Rick didn't answer him. "Where the fuck is my wife?"

XxXxX

Rick could hear Michonne's instructions echoing off the wall of the brick courtyard as he approached. The reason Michonne had picked this spot for yoga was the fruity scent of the apple trees nearby. But such sweet aroma therapy did little to simmer Rick's boiling blood as he came upon her bent over on her mat in downward-facing dog. Her meaty behind in those bright orange yoga pants was being displayed to the other mostly male participants learning her early morning routine. Her white racerback sports bra was recklessly spilling her breasts as every man's eye kept vigil.

"Okay. Pack up your shit. Yoga is over for today," Rick announced flatly as he strode down the middle of a row of contorting pupils. Michonne shot up from her pose in surprise at the sound of his voice. She stood up and crossed her arms communicating her irritation with his brash appearance.

"Rick, what are you doing here?"

Before he could answer her, Jerry showed up with his lime green yoga mat under his arm. He was late as usual and making quick work of a large jellied biscuit sandwiching a thick cut of ham. He looked around at the other guys who were unhappily packing up to go on Rick's word.

"Sorry I'm late. No class today?" he asked, suppressing a relieved smile.

Rick cut his eyes toward the large man and answered him with a cold stare. Swallowing the copious contents of his cheeks, Jerry backed away without any arm-twisting or threats from Rick.

"Oh. Okay. Gotcha," the king's steward nodded, grasping the situation. Known for his lovable nature and his unworried disposition, most people had no idea how intuitive the big guy could be. He could nearly see smoke coming out of Rick's ears and he didn't want to be around when that smoke led to a full blown fire. "Deuces." He said, leaving them with the peace sign as he departed with a quick but heavy march.

Rick and Michonne watched him walk away in silence until Rick turned back to face her.

"What the hell, Michonne?" His tone made it evident that he hadn't calmed down a bit from the constant challenges just about every man had made to his position as her husband. "What do you think you're doin'? Gardenin' with Larry, Moe and Curly? And this fuckin' show your puttin' on out here… Is this what you've been doin' 'round here without me?"

She supplied him with the names of her garden laborers. "I did help _PJ, Dennis_ and _Sam_ with a vertical garden, but what 'show' are you referring to?"

"Oh, come on! 'What show?' The one where you wiggle in these tight pants showin' off all that ass… that belongs to me, by the way. Your top…" he said, looking down on the shapely summits of her breasts as he moved closer. He licked his lips and lowered his voice, his words came slower as he tried to concentrate on speaking and not on the handfuls of soft sweet cleavage rising and falling as she got more upset with what he was saying, "Your top is showin' way too much. Gotta be the only reason why Jerry, of all people, would be tryin' to do a warrior pose."

"Jerry _is_ a warrior, as you are very well aware! He's here working on his chi because Ezekiel made him read The Art of War. And anyway, Rick, this is what I wear at home when I do yoga!"

"But you don't have an audience droolin' all over you in our living room… 'cept me."

"They asked me to teach a class! You never wanted to learn!" She reminded him. "What are you doing here anyway? What's in this bag?"

He was about to give her his usual excuse about his bad knee not being compatible with the child pose, until she reminded him that his whole plan was in the bag on his shoulder.

"You left a bunch of stuff at home. Thought you might want it."

She rolled her eyes, immediately sensing some ploy. She knew Rick Grimes too well, but she played along anyway.

"Thank you. You can bring it to my room." Michonne said as she picked up her mat and towel. "Did you see the kids?"

"Saw Judith. She wants to come home."

"She _told_ you that?" Michonne asked, relinquishing her stern attitude for a smile at his brazen attempt to get at her through her baby girl.

"It was all in her eyes. She had a sad... like… homesick look on her face."

"Uh huh." She paid him no mind, knowing Judith woke up with excitement everyday in the Kingdom like they were on vacation.

"Still gotta talk to Carl about Negan. But don't worry. Even if he wanted to talk to him now, he couldn't." Rick promised, "He won't be seein' anyone again."

"Really?"

"Yeah. He's out of the picture until his times up."

"That's good to hear," she commended him. "Thank you, Rick."

"And what about all the anger?" she asked while searching his face for tells.

"I worked through it."

"I wonder if my yoga class is convinced that you _worked_ _through_ _it_?" She threw up air quotes and turned to walk.

He sighed, following behind her, hoping she wasn't too put off by the entrance he'd made.

"They all walked outta there. Call that a miracle." He caught a glimpse of the apple of her cheek raised in amusement. He smiled too, relieved to be doing better than he'd thought.

Michonne brought him to the room Ezekiel had put her and the kids up in. The temporary lodging was well-appointed, bunk beds for Carl and Judith on one side of the room, a queen sized bed for Michonne on the other and a four person dining table in the middle. Spacious and inviting, the king had been quick to provide her with every comfort and her luxurious quarters made that obvious to Rick.

"Lotta flowers," he commented with annoyance as he looked around the airy accommodations. There were at least a dozen crystal vases displaying various bouquets of pinks, greens, blues and purples.

Michonne rolled her eyes again, recognizing his tone.

"Yes, people gave me flowers. To welcome me. To say 'thank you for helping out'. The people here are very sweet. The atmosphere here is a lot more relaxed. They allow me to be an asset here, like I used to be in Alexandria."

Rick ignored that loaded comment pointed directly at his overprotectiveness with an imperceptible shrug. He plucked out an elegantly handwritten note from one of the larger arrangements. It read: **A thousand petals for a thousand thanks. You are truly a comfort to my lovesick soul.**

The note was clearly from Ezekiel and Rick saw red, and not from the tiger lillies adorning the bouquet. He restrained himself from balling up the small card in his hand.

"Yeah. You're an asset… for Ezekiel's 'lovesick soul', apparently," Rick said sarcastically as he held the message up between his fingers. "Exactly _how_ are you comfortin' him, Chonne?"

Michonne snatched the card from his hand with a scoff, "Please, Rick. Don't be ridiculous. He wanted to discuss his feelings about Carol. I just gave him a little advice. He's got it bad for her."

"You know, I'm a lovesick soul, too," he said, "Where's my comfort?"

"Rick…" She just scoffed, not knowing what to say. "What's in the bag?" She asked impatiently. He crudely pushed the vases out of the way with his bag as he dropped it on the table. Michonne jumped to keep the water-filled glass vessels from toppling and spilling their contents.

He unzipped the bag with a frown and pulled out her shoes and dropped them at her feet.

"You left these," he said without looking up. "I keep trippin' over 'em. So I brought 'em to you before they break my neck…" He watched her stoop to pick them up in a huff. "The sight of 'em already breaks my heart."

Michonne softened her demeanor when she caught the pain in his voice, but she didn't respond to that loaded comment pointed directly at her cold absence in the home they'd made with each other. But he knew Michonne Grimes too well. When he dared to look into her eyes, he saw a hint of remorse. It wasn't the time to go in for the kill yet, though. He tore his eyes away from her sad, regretful browns and went back to the items in the bag.

"This." He pulled the long white dress out and laid it lovingly over the bag and the table. He caressed the lace longingly and waited for a moment before he spoke again. "Remember when you wore this?"

Michonne touched the fabric too.

"I do," she whispered, avoiding his sky blue eyes. She remembered how hard he made her cum after he got it off her. She held the dress up to her body and smoothed it over her front as she reminisced. She remembered how she deliberately hung the dress out in the open before she left, just to keep him focused.

He pulled out the pièce de résistance of his plan and sat it on the table.

"You brought Catmandu?"

"She's yours. I gave 'er to you. Remember? Remember how you kept me alive that day?" he said softly as he put a hand on her hip and slid it past that magic spot of hers around to the small of her back. "Remember how bad I needed you that day? How I literally could not live without you there to help me."

Michonne remained silent though her thoughts blared with everything that happened that day. The panic she felt when Jadis pushed Rick from her view and she ran to get him in her sights again. She remembered how the relief she felt when she saw him unharmed at the foot of that mountain of trash was so fleeting. She remembered how she was engulfed with dread when she saw the spiked walker he had to fight.

"I remember," she confirmed as her emotions got the better of her. Looking at him now, he was so damn gorgeous and she was missing him so much. She remembered why she fell in love with him while they starved out on the road. She remembered being hungry everyday but full from the sound of his voice and any accidental brush of his body then. She remembered how she trusted him enough to tie her hopes and dreams to him.

"I remember I believed in you. I knew you'd come out alive. Because we're the ones who live, Rick. I had your back but that was _your_ win that day. You did it. And now I need you to let me have my wins. I'm a big girl, Rick."

"I know you are. But if I can't protect you, what kind of man am I?" He begged her understanding.

"You're the one who said we could go on without each other. What kind of man were you when you said that?"

He answered quickly, having scolded himself many times for that statement.

"Full'a shit," he swore. "I realized that when you were in the infirmary instead of in our bed. I never wanted to sleep without you again but I am sleeping all alone again and this time it's my fault. I'm beggin' for mercy, here, Chonne. Come back home."

She was ready to be merciful and more, as long as he could see her side. "I don't need you to hold my hand."

He took her hand in his and kissed her fingertips as he angled his head to search for her downcast eyes with his blazing ice blues, "I can't hold your hand, Chonne?" He teased her, taking her statement literally as he pulled her closer against his body.

"Not if I…" She paused, remembering to breathe. She blew out a long breath as he nuzzled and kissed her neck and collarbone. "Not when I don't need you to." She panted, feeling his wet tongue move slowly over her skin and the moisture trickling from her center.

"But I need somethin' to hold." Rick countered with a sexy gruffness to his voice. It paraded down her spine and made her knees weak. Her woozy state did not go unnoticed by him. He whispered, "A man's gotta be able to hold onto somethin'."

"Rick…" she did her best to protest, but she wanted him in a terrible way. As much as she didn't want to be coddled and cordoned off away from danger, she _did_ need him to hold her in his arms. She actually wanted him to do everything she was telling him not to. But there had to be a time and a place. This was that time. This was that place.

Her feeble objection crumbled into a mighty consent when she captured the front of his shirt in her fists and pulled his lips to collide with hers. The taste of his mouth was such a comfort, she forgot her prepared rant. She didn't care that this is what she left to avoid- the way he consumed her. All she wanted was to feel him inside her. Maybe, she thought, once she collapsed from one of those blinding orgasms that he so easily gave her, she could regain her focus and make a proper stand for her independence.

"Give me somethin' to hold onto," he said one more time. He was momentarily taken aback when his wife placed her palms on the planes of his chest and pushed his ready body away from hers.

She stood there with him an arm's length away, eyes closed, head down. Her body was quickly overriding her mind as she fell to his control of her. She lifted her arms to remove her top. Rick's face betrayed none of the elation he felt. He simply stood there waiting for her to wave him in as his eyes took in the swell of her perky breasts and pert ebony nipples. He was sketching out a mental plan of all the places he would drop his lips as soon as she called him to feast.

Michonne set her dark insistent eyes on his and engulfed in her coppery wonton gaze. Her fingers slowly slipped between the elastic waistband of her pants and the quivering skin of her midriff. In one motion she had everything off and stood before him completely naked. The gossamer shock of curls between her thighs glistened with her arousal.

"Come here," she commanded him as she pulled herself to sit her bare bottom on the edge of the table, jostling the delicate containers of fresh cut flowers behind her. Rick took a step toward her, his engorged manhood nearly burning a lengthwise hole in his slim fit jeans. Michonne took his hand now and sucked her two favorite digits on his right hand. She moaned as her eyes rolled back tasting the salty sweetness of his trigger finger.

Her left ankle went to his shoulder and she pulled his rough, long fingers wet from her tongue. They grazed a nipple as she moved them to her opening and leaned back to watch him deposit them in her heat. His well-trained fingers went right to the seat of nerves inside her and she drew in a hissing breath over her tongue when he began to stroke her there ever so gently.

"You can hold me… but… you don't have to," she told him before she was interrupted by an stray cry of pleasure when she felt herself clenching on his knuckles. He leaned forward and seized her drawn nipple between his teeth, then lapped at it with conviction. "You don't have to," her breathing went ragged, "When I'm wrapped around your finger."

She was close and she pushed him down by his shoulders between her wide open legs. Her fist gripped his hair and she pulled his face to the feast. "I'm about to cum," she told him. "Make it good."

Her orders were followed as he unleashed his tongue on her clit. The rapid feather-light licks made her legs tense and she pitched herself harder against the friction and called his name. He knew the faint touch of his tongue would make her crazy. He was setting up the power move he made next, thirstily sucking her tender bud through the sound of his gratified moans. He felt her fall into that endless moment and wash his fingers, palm and wrist with a divine splash.

"Yes! Rick! It's so good! You make it so good… feels so… so good," she mewled as she deflated under his touch.

He continued his tactile ministrations as he stood tall over her breathless body until she rode out every bit of her climax. He finally removed his fingers, then his shirt.

"Michonne…" he uttered her name like it was the only word he'd ever known as he visited all the invisible monuments he'd dedicated to his love- the curve of her upper lip, a small, scratched depression of the skin on her cheekbone, the rounded tip of her adorable nose.

He unbuckled his belt with one hand as his other caressed the dark damp skin of her stripped breasts and torso. Stunned by her beauty, he paused, stroking his marbled length and anticipating the absolute paradise he was set to raid. Smearing the thin, translucent issuance from the head of his cock along his hefty shaft, he situated himself at her entrance and deliberately pushed no further than an inch past her slick petals.

His hips pumped, gliding so little of his dick's reach in and out of her. He watched his blushed member be swallowed up by her silken folds over and over until she begged him for more. When he was finally satisfied with the quality of her petitions, Rick took his seat solidly engulfed inside her. Every thrust he gave her was all she could take.

Her climax was as fragile as the unluckily placed vases behind her. The gifted bouquets crashed one by one to the floor while she hurtled closer and closer to the delicious end she'd been without for too many days. The exquisite tingle she felt turned into a throbbing, glowing fever deep in the seclusion of her womb and there she found another release take over her just in time to welcome her husband's hot gushing seed to spill against her swollen sensitive walls.

Their foreheads touched for a long moment of silence as they regarded each other in a starry gaze, trying to catch their breaths. He finally took a step back to collect himself.

"So glad you're comin' home, honey," he said as he zipped his pants.

"I was always coming home, Rick," she said as she slowly sat up and looked around for her clothes. Rick gave her a kiss on the forehead and an infinitely happy smile. He picked up his shirt and pulled it over his head, lost for a moment in the veil of white cotton and even more lost by her next words. "I was always coming home, Rick. But not today."


	4. Chapter 4

When you're in a dark place sometimes it feels like you've been buried… But Rick is on his way to finding out that he's actually been planted. All he has to do is bloom. The wit and mind-blowing talent of **Winterscorpion** brings us closer to that Richonne growth. If you've never been blessed to read her work, YOU HAVE ARRIVED! Known for her unique and raw writing style, this chapter is sure to have you in your feelings and leave your screen in ashes from the sensationally smutty heat.

Don't forget to check out her other works on her FF page.

 **-We're The Ones Who Write**

* * *

Chapter 4

Rick was halfway bent down retrieving one of several overturned vases when he thought he heard his wife tell a very unfunny joke.

"Baby, I'm sorry what was that," he said still bent over looking up at his wife, who was still perched on the table they _just fucked on_ , "It … ha.. huh… sounded like you said you weren't coming home."

"Rick, you heard me," Michonne replied, still in a daze from their latest table romp, though not so dazed that she felt she had to repeat herself. She gingerly let down one of her legs to steady herself onto the floor, luxuriating in the pleasurable soreness no amount of yoga could prevent once her husband got to her.

Rick stood upright with the quickness and tilted his head, as if that could help him see her better… to understand her better. What he did see were remnants of their coupling slowly trickling down her inner thigh. What he understood was that his dick was still damp from Michonne's very essence that she had blessed it with, _several times_ , just a few moments ago. What he didn't understand were the words that were coming out of her mouth. He watched her step lightly down from the table, walking with a tentative bow legged gait to rival his own, and retrieve her discarded clothing

"No baby, I don't thank I heard you correctly," he replied, his southern drawl stepped up a notch in agitation, "Cuz it sounded like you said you wasn't comin' home with me… _today._ I know I heard you wrong so Imma need you to repeat what you said."

Michonne moved to the bed to grab her bathrobe. Having decided that she needed to actually shower the intoxicating smell of her and her wily man off if she was going to be able to stick to her stalwart position. She avoided Rick's tensing stance as she gathered some clean clothes and a towel to take with her to the en suite shower in the room.

"Rick, I am coming home. I always was," she started, eyes averted from the two blue lasers burning into her, "But not today. There are still a couple of projects that I am overseeing for Ezekiel that I need to see executed fully … _and_ I have to say… I'm not very convinced that you've 'worked out' your anger issues." Her fingers still in air quote position as he made a few steps toward her. He stood next to her, staring at her profile, wrapped his arms around her waist, and pulled her to him.

"Michonne," he growled as he ground into her side, feeling the beginnings of another erection rub against that special spot on her hip, "I came here… crawlin' back to you. The Kingdom isn't where I wanna be. But here I am like a puppet on a string… for you. For my family."

He pulled her tighter against him and slipped his hand into the loose front of her robe. His large palm found its rightful place on her firm breast and squeezed tenderly. Michonne got lost in his smell surrounding her... and his persistent graze of her nipple... and his whispered. pleading rasp in her ear as she leaned into his embrace. Her head tilted onto his chin while his hand travelled down to her taut abdomen. She shivered from her core in his embrace.

She wanted to pause his advancing hand but then his irresistible drawl found its way to her ear again in a husky whisper, "Are you mine, Chonne? Are you sure?" His hand had now made its way to the loosely tied belt of her robe, easily undoing it so the garment fell open, leaving her front exposed to his persistent assault.

"Is this mine," he whispered again as his hand moved to cup her swollen womanhood, "It felt like mine a few minutes ago. It _still_ feels like mine." His middle finger didn't even pause to make its usual pit stop at her already sensitive nub. As if knowing its mission, it travelled down her slippery slit directly to her opening and slid into _home_. Michonne hissed while his finger pumped and swirled in her heated canal.

His other hand gripped her closer to him and he tilted his groin into her, "You tryin' to make me go crazy stayin' here. Is that it Michonne?" She bit her lip at the way he made her name sound like thick honey falling from his lips. With every side rub of his hardness on her hip she knew she was going to lose this battle. Even so, she was determined to win the war. Even as she felt the steady rise of her third climax in the matter of a few minutes, she knew that she had to stand on the hill she was willing to die on. Rick's sanity and the foundation of their relationship depended on her victory. Even when her hand went to the top of his to guide him further into her and even as she let the moan of his name slip from her lips, her mind had a focus on his well-being. Rick had to know his overprotective brand of crazy was going to be the wedge that even the purest of orgasms would not be able to dislodge. _No, he's gonna learn today_ , she thought as she moved her pelvis in a steadily rapid rhythm that was about to drive her over the edge.

He pushed his index finger in to join its usual partner in crime and curved them into a come-hither motion, beckoning to be awash in her wet release.

"Or maybe you think these Kingdom fellas can do what I'm doing for you? Is that it Michonne? You think them little boys sniffin' around you can make you wet like this?" His grip tightened on her at the very thought of the wavy haired United Colors of Benetton boy toy group he first encountered having the nerve to breathe the same air as his woman. Much less, the nerve to have her name come so nonchalantly out of their mouths in conversation.

"You think Sam…" he added another finger, "or PJ… " he thrust a little harder and added his thumb in for playtime on her swollen clit, "or Moe make you come the way I'm about to? Huh baby… you gonna answer me?" He bit into her shoulder and Michonne's grip on his hand tightened.

He licked the spot he bit to soothe the bruise he knew would come but he didn't halt his penetrative assault. The wet music their joined hands were making with her pussy was obscenely loud in the silence of the room as Michonne felt her body tighten for its final release.

"I'm… yours Rick," she gritted out, "I'm all your… fuck… that's… ungh… god right there...that's not what this is about." She couldn't hold on much longer but she needed him to know she was stronger than the orgasm she felt barreling to the surface.

Rick felt her pulse more of her essence into his palm, "Say it again Michonne. Say it…" he was deep in her heat and his cock was a stone hard warning in his jeans, "I'm yours. You still mine...Is. This. Still. Mine... C'mon say it."

"Yessssssss…. It's yours Riiiiiiiccckk," she screamed as she felt herself release from a well that she thought she had depleted. Every spasm of her pussy released a little more moisture as her heart raced from the exertion brought on by the ravaging thrusts of his fingers.

He let her spill into his hand, ignoring the jealous point of his engorged manhood trying desperately to escape its denim prison. He kept his hand in position so he could feel every quiver, each tightening muscle. He loved to feel what only he could do her. Loved watching her relinquish her control to him. What he didn't love was what she said once she got her breath back and pulled away from him.

"I have work to finish. You're going to let me," she stepped away from him, "I'm getting into the shower. It's too late for you to travel back tonight. So you're staying too."

Rick looked dumbfounded from his dripping hand to his wife's retreating back, "But… Michonne -"

"No buts… and you're sleeping with the kids. Hope your back is ready for bunk beds. Cuz that's _yours_ tonight."

###

"Did you see the size of that thing?"

"So that's the infamous Colt Python huh?"

Carl's ears perked up at the familiar words so closely associated to his family name. Well, to be more accurate it was associated with his dad but that wasn't possible…

"And his 'aim is still surgical', I mean what the actual fuck."

"Well you certainly looked like you shit yourself."

"I damn near did. I repeat. Did. You. See. The. Size. Of. That. Thing?"

"I was too busy trying not to get shot to pay attention to the size of the hand cannon that was aimed at me to really have an opinion. And did you see the look in his eyes, all gruff and scary with the 'Where the fuck is my wife'? If the bullet didn't get us then for damn sure that cold dead stare would finish the job up nicely."

Carl sighed as he walked behind the trio of men on his way to pick up his little sister. _Well, I guess dad's here,_ he thought with a shake of his head. He sped up his steps so he could try to get to Michonne and give her some warning.

"Come on man, he wasn't that scary. I still think he's too old for her."

Carl's footsteps took a moment's pause as he looked at the back of a blonde Kingdomer. _Did he just say_ … ?

"… Walking in there like that. 'Where the fuck is my wife'… I mean come on. If he had to come looking for her how surgical can the Famous Rick Grimes' aim really be," Sam said then chuckled, "Did he forget where he put her with his old ass?"

"I'm pretty sure he knows exactly where she is. I'd also bet he has no problem forgetting where he'll leave your body if he heard you talking about _her_ like that," Carl snarled just loud enough for the trio to take their own moment's pause in their footsteps. They each slowly turned around to face the young male heir to the Grimes name and lethal temper, "He passed his aiming skills onto me you know. I only got one eye left, but I can still do this."

Quick as a flash Carl had his hunting knife out and had it hurling through the air, spiraling quickly past the blonde shit talker's ear, nicking it in its progress to the tree directly behind him. It landed dead center of the tree with a satisfying 'thunk'. All three men did a double take staring in awe back and forth from their young assailant and the tree.

"What the actual fuck? I'm bleeding for Christ's sake," Sam yelped seeing the blood on the hand he just pulled away from his ear, "You're just as crazy as your father!"

"If you think that's crazy, wait till you hear that I'm disappointed in myself," Carl grunted, and just as swiftly, he had his gun drawn and cocked before Sam could even complete his next thought, "I really wasn't aiming for that tree."

"Hey Carl, no harm no foul man! Sam here is just being an ass," PJ pleaded, his hands already in the upright position. Dennis attempted to pull Sam back into his right mind, muttering what sounded like _you don't want to fuck with this family._

"Well, I suggest you watch what you say about my 'old ass' father," Carl replied, "And keep your eyes off of my mom while you're at it. We clear?" He didn't even wait to hear the mumbled acquiescence as he walked calmly to the tree without sparing a glance towards the three men. He retrieved his knife from the tree and continued on his way, quietly seething to himself.

He knew part of the reason they were in the Kingdom was because of his misguided attempts to gain some sort of closure from his conversations with Negan. He knew he couldn't explain the draw the murderous former leader of the Saviors had on him. Maybe it was the darkness in the smooth talking sociopath that Carl had himself felt rise and lingered just under his surface, ever since this hell on earth life had begun. In his short life he'd had to kill the man who he had known to be his favorite uncle. He'd had to shoot his own mother to prevent her from becoming a monster sheathed in her skin. He'd even had to kill an unarmed boy not much older than he was… that was it. That was when he'd let the darkness take over. Even then he had known killing that boy was not only wrong but the coldest thing he could have imagined doing in his young life. After his father's intervention of good old fashioned hard work in the prison's soil and Michonne's ever present support, Carl had learned to quell that side of him that brought out the darkness.

Then Negan happened. Him and his bat happened. Him and his megalomaniacal demands on his family and community happened and the darkness was back in full force. After they had won the war the darkness still lay there, festering in his heart like a poisonous cancer. He wanted Negan dead. He wanted him dead for strong bullheaded Abraham and Sasha who barely got to see any bit of happiness before they were both taken away. He _needed_ Negan dead for Glenn, who he had known since the beginning of the mad chaos that was the new world. Glenn who had brought his father back to him alive without even knowing the gift he brought to the quarry so many long days ago.

Carl was sure that speaking to Negan and trying to figure out what made him tick would quell that dark thirst for another human's death. He couldn't reconcile his desire to end another fellow human's life when the real enemy, the true undead, should have been the top placeholder for that hate. Since they had arrived at the Kingdom, he had tried to explain to Michonne, why he was continuing to visit Negan, even against her wishes. Michonne being who she was, and always keenly in tune with her boy, knew that he felt like a monster having the murderous feelings he did and did the best thing that she could do. She listened. Listened to what that piece of shit poured into her son's ear during their talks. Listened to the questions Carl had for the imprisoned enemy.

As he spoke about it, he realized Negan's manipulations and his own strength in not giving in to any of Negan's machinations. He realized that the man was just a man. A sick, despot of a man but still just a man that this apocalypse had nothing to do with. Negan was always an asshole and the apocalypse simply fed into his assholery in the worst way possible. Carl also saw how his father could never have been Negan because he was always a good man. If he really thought about it, he was his father's son after all. He could be a good man too. By the end of Carl's cathartic confessions, he was in tears but relieved that he had finally unpacked his fears and Michonne was in tears from witnessing that burden lift from his youthful shoulders. At the end of the day, Carl realized he should have just come to Michonne in the first place.

Now he hurried to their domicile at the Kingdom to warn her that the other reason they were at the Kingdom was in close vicinity. He hoped he could beat his father to her or at least head him off at the pass so he could have a good talk with him too. From the way those three idiots were talking, he could only imagine what his father's reaction would have been if he had encountered much of the same. The very thought of his father and his colt python running wild within the kingdom shouting 'Where the fuck is my wife' spurred his feet into moving faster.

He rushed through the door, not thinking to knock, "Mom, I think Dad is here and he's probably on his way to us right n.." Carl was stopped short as he was greeted with the familiar broad back of his father standing at the sink washing his hands, "Oh shitfuck… uh… hi dad."

"So that's what you're learning here? Cussin' like you have no damn sense," Rick turned around to face his tattle tale son, "You're lucky Michonne's in the shower because I'm pretty sure she could figure out a way to make sure a Kingdom groundin' feels just like a Safe-Zone groundin'."

Carl thought for sure he'd have gotten a pass for that slip up but he didn't want to push it, "Sorry Dad. Just surprised to see you is all… so umm… I guess she knows you're here so I guess… I'll just … um… go.. Maybe go pick Judith up… or just… go... somewhere else. Not here."

Carl knew how his parents could get when they were within touching distance of each other and he didn't want to break his streak of not being caught in the heated crosshairs of their volatile affections. He managed to take a brief look at the room and saw that a few of the vases containing Michonne's gifts had already fallen victim to the hurricane that was their intense… whatever they called it. He figured if Michonne was in the shower then that could only mean they were headed home.

He hoped that his father's appearance meant that he too had had some sort of epiphany. But in all honesty, with the 'where the fuck is my wife' still echoing in his mind, he highly doubted it. Michonne wasn't a weak woman by any means and Carl was actually pretty proud of her leaving and staying as long as she did. However, it seemed his father was back in her orbit. Carl could only imagine what kind of persuasions he used. He could almost see her breaking and returning to the Alexandria Safe-Zone, his father's lesson unlearned and her still feeling the pressure of being loved the Grimes way.

"Well, I'll come with you," Rick said with a sigh, "Cuz it looks like we're gonna be here for one more night at least. Michonne is… determined… and so am I," Rick dwindled off and a flash of hot anger crossed the electrified blue of his eyes.

"We're staying," Carl exclaimed surprisingly, "You… you too?"

"Yeahhhh… and looks like I'm bunkin' with you and your sister too," Rick chuckled derisively, "So you may want to tell me which bunk you prefer. Top or bottom? Makes no difference to me."

Carl stifled a laugh at the thought that his father had been relegated to sharing the cramped bunk beds with him and his little sister. He again felt that surge of pride in Michonne. _Good for her_ , he thought, _sticking to her original plan._ Maybe he could help the woman who had come to mean so much more than a best friend to him.

"Well I'm top because Mom was afraid of Judes falling off. But she's been sleeping in the big bed with Michonne anyway so the bottom bunk's all yours."

"Sounds about right. Can barely keep Judith out of our bed at home so at least that hasn't changed. C'mon let's go get her and you can tell me about what you've been up to while Michonne gets cleaned up."

###

"You know Dad," Carl started off tentatively as they walked side by side to the nursery to pick up his little sister, "I'm not really surprised you're here. I'm just surprised that it took you so long."

Rick scoffed his response, not surprised at his son's non-surprise at his sudden appearance. His pride in his boy knew no bounds as he glanced at him from the side vision. He had watched his son mature from a precocious willful young boy into the pensive young man making strides that were longer than his now. He saw this new world tear his only son's childhood away like the jaws of the very undead that they fought with daily. Its harsh cruelty sowing a seed of darkness that Rick recognized and was so familiar with that he almost didn't try to stop it from taking root.

Rick knew that darkness well. He knew the taste of its bile intimately. He had wallowed in its cold embrace from the moment he felt the knife sink into his best friend's gullet. He let it drown him with its choking tentacles as he gutted the monster that held his dead wife's remains in its bowels. He almost let it break him as it gifted him with phantom phone calls in the prison and the even eerier phantom of his dead wife, looking more pristine and innocent in her ghostly form than she ever did in life.

Then _she_ came into his life. His Michonne. Even that day at the prison gate he could almost feel the darkness scream its defeat and release its hold on him. He didn't know it at the time but he damn sure felt it the moment he stared into those fierce brown eyes. He couldn't understand it either at the time but he understood it now. That earth shattering stare had felt life altering in its simplicity of force. Looking back, he now realized that _that_ was the beginning of everything. When the darkness had lost to the light of this powerful, fearsome, beautiful beacon of a woman he now called his. He watched as the seed in his son withered into dormancy under Michonne's watch. Rick would be forever grateful for the part she played in giving his son back a little of the sun that had been held at bay by the continuous mercilessness of the apocalypse that tried to conquer it.

Rick wasn't the only one grateful to Michonne. In order to thank her in his own small way, Carl saw fit to set his father on a better path.

"Dad… you know why we left right," he asked cautiously, gauging his father's response before he continued, "It's not just about Negan… or me talking to Negan."

"Son, I know why y'all are here and trust me, I know why I'm here. To get my family back where they belong," Rick responded.

"Are you sure? Because you being here… and don't get me wrong I'm happy to see you," Carl said, "Well it don't really seem like you _understand_ why Michonne picked us all up and came here. Seems to me you came here with the same … erm… behavior that drove her here in the first place."

Rick halted his steps to turn to his son and gave his boy a head tilt usually reserved for someone about to be on the receiving end of a red handled hatchet to the head.

Carl went on unfazed, "I mean, did you even see what she's accomplished here in a matter of a couple of days."

"Son, I saw enough," Rick said through gritted teeth, not willing to admit that he had barely noticed the feeding atrium Ezekiel had tried to show him when he first arrived. Didn't want to tell his son that he couldn't see past the haze of red that had fallen over his eyes the moment he heard that falsetto trio daring to speak Michonne's name.

Carl already knew though and said as much, "How could you see past that gun of yours aimed and ready to do some Grimes justice?"

Rick's head went straight in a flash and gave his son an incredulous stare.

"Yeah, dad," Carl continued, almost remorsefully, "How could you see past whatever, or should I say _whoever_ , seemed like a threat. Not a deadly threat mind you, but a threat nonetheless… to something that was yours."

Hearing all the truth his son was dishing out almost made Rick's heart stop. But Carl wasn't finished. Not by a long shot.

"See Dad, what you didn't see is that Michonne isn't Mom," Carl dealt his trump card and dared his father to try to bluff, "You think I don't remember or maybe you just don't think I was old enough to understand but I did. I saw Mom and… Shane. What they became. How _soon_ they became what they were. I … I look at Judith and I see so much of mom in her but Dad… I see little bits of Shane too."

Rick stood stunned.

"I was there. I'm the one that had to put Shane down. I remember how you were after. I know what died in you that night at the farm. And I definitely know what came to life inside you that night, because that was when the same thing came to life in me."

"Son," Rick started, his voice so raw it went raspier than even he thought it could go.

"No Dad, I'm talking now," Carl defiant in his bravery, "What you don't understand is that Michonne came and I saw it… felt that thing gnawing inside me _and you_ start to go away. From the moment she became one of us, I felt the pressure of it kind of ease away. And you did too! Maybe you don't remember, but I do. You started me farming not to soon after that. Tried to kill the darkness in me _and_ yourself. And I knew, everytime she left the prison it would try to come back but … just knowing she would always come back kept it bay. Now, I don't think we… me and you, are ever gonna let it die. In this world we're living in we can't. But… when it comes to her… when it comes to what's yours… what's _ours_ … we gotta let it lie. Lie in wait and use it. Use it for the ones that really deserve it. Not let it drive out the little bit of light we got."

Rick didn't know his face was wet until he felt an errant breeze blow by. This was the most his son had ever said to him in one sitting. The most truth anyone had ever made him face with the exception of Michonne's call to battle. And the truth hurt. But it healed too. He felt it break over him as he stared into Carl's blue eye, the lone survivor of the pair that were so much like his own.

Rick cleared his throat to speak, "Carl… it takes a real man to set another man straight and I'm real proud of you son. I'm proud of the man you've become. I'm prouder than you could ever imagine. It also takes a man to see his own faults and I'm so sorry that I've fallen short of the man and father I should have been… I –"

Carl cut him off, "Dad, you're every bit of proud of me as I am of you. Proud that I'm your son. You and Michonne… nothing against Mom because I will always love her, but you're the parents that I needed in this world. You're the team that I've always needed to be a part of. But, you just gotta _see_ yourself as a team. See Michonne as your teammate. Not something that's gonna be taken away, but some _ **one**_ who already sees you as her partner."

"When'd you grow the hell up on me boy," Rick snickered as he wiped as his face of the rugged tears that had escaped.

"Since I met Michonne," Carl said without hesitation, "and a little bit of help from my dumbass Dad."

"Hey now," Rick came back, barely hiding the gruff laugh that erupted from him, "Remember what I told you 'bout that Kingdom groundin'?" He grasped his son's shoulder to give it a squeeze and turned them back to their path, "Now let's go get your sister so you can show me some more of what you all have been up to. I'm sure there's lots I need to see of Michonne's good work."

Carl laughed as he turned and led the way.

###

The sun slowly chased the dark shadow on the two hands intertwined over the steady rise and fall of Judith's sleeping tummy. Rick watched the light make its slow progression over his large fingers interlaced in his wife's diminutive ones and counted his blessings while he watched his girls sleep.

That he didn't find himself waking on the bottom bunk with his son with all kinds of joint pains being the very least of the blessings he counted, he counted it nonetheless. Grateful that his wife took pity on him after seeing a brand new vase to add to her collection, full of Kingdom bred blooms to rival the ones that came before. The blessing of her poise as he came back with their children, brimming with pride from all they had shown him of her work there. The blessing of her forgiveness when he finally got to speak to her in the quiet of the night of his anger and how he never meant to let it be the force to push her away. The blessing he counted second was the love and understanding he saw in her eyes as she listened to his mea culpa was only beaten out by a very slim margin to his number one blessing.

"I love you," she had whispered to him over their daughter's light snores, "and I want to come back home...I… I just have to finish what I started here."

"Shhh…" Rick hushed her, "You take whatever time you need to finish this. You just let me know how I can help. I'll get in where I fit in."

Michonne chuckled quietly, fully aware of the dangers of a waking Judith, "Oh you fit in just fine Rick Grimes. But are you sure? It may be a couple of months. But I can certainly use all the help I can get."

Even though his heart wanted to scream, _a couple of months hell no_ , his mind and a voice in his head that kind of sounded like his son, told him that the separation would give him the time to deal with the root of the weed that was his anger and darkness. The time he needed to be the best father for his family, the best leader for his community, the best man Michonne deserved.

"Well if that's how long it takes… I'm giving you all the help I can give. That alright with you Partner?"

Even in the dark of the late night, the light from her gorgeous smile showed through.

"I'm alright with that … Partner."


	5. Chapter 5

Reaping the harvest that the Michonne and Rick's love have sown, who better to complete this story of redemption than the prolific **Siancore**. This heavy hitter of the Richonne fandom perfectly characterizes our favorite couple with nuance and poignancy which is no surprise to the initiated of her many amazing works. Her prose, from AU to canon is incomparable within the realms of Richonne and the talent she brings to conclude this story is nothing short of miraculous.

Be sure to check out her other works on her FF page.

 **-We're The Ones Who Write**

* * *

Chapter 5

Michonne had always loved the cooler weather. There was something comforting about nursing a warm beverage in your hands as you watch gray clouds roll overhead and brown leaves being whipped along an empty sidewalk. The chill of the air brought her mind back to a time and place before the world had ended. It reminded her of how she might spend a day like the present one: Lounging around in loose-fitted clothing, and drinking hot chocolate.

A smile graced her lips before she pushed that feeling of nostalgia deep down inside, and focused on the display before her: Judith and a few other children frolicking in a pile of leaves. Their laughter wafting through the small, secluded area of the Kingdom.

She sipped from her tea and watched as Judith scooped up a handful of leaves and tossed them in the direction of one of her playmates. Michonne grinned and then called out, "Five more minutes, Judy!"

After reaching into the pocket of her jeans, Michonne retrieved Rick's wristwatch. He had given it to her when he was set to return to the Safe-Zone all those weeks ago. She smiled to herself when she recalled how he had agreed to give her all the time she needed to do as she needed. Her heart swelled with love for him as she remembered how he removed his watch and handed it to her, proclaiming that he wanted her to hold on to it until she and the children returned to their home; returned to him.

Michonne turned the watch over in the palm of her hand. Her soul yearned for her husband as she recalled his firm hand stroking her face while they stood at the gates of the Kingdom. How he wiped her tears with his thumb when she saw the sadness in his eyes. How she promised him she would count the hours until they would be together again in their home.

Thus far, it had been close to one thousand, five hundred hours since Michonne had stepped foot inside of Alexandria. And now, as she finished her tea, and clasped tightly onto her husband's watch, she was ready, finally, to go home.

…..

"There's three more over there!" Rick called out to Gabriel while he pointed his machete in the direction of a few ambling walkers.

A small herd had gathered by the side of the road that led to the Safe-Zone. The force of those caught in the traps, coupled with those pushing against them, caused a break in the barrier put there to keep them away. As a result of the break, the road was currently teeming with rotted walkers.

Rick and a few others were tasked with clearing the way. A group was scheduled to be traveling from the Kingdom that day. Carl, Judith, and Michonne were with said group. Rick was not going to let a scattering of the dead hold up their journey. It had been a little over two months since his family had been back in Alexandria, he was going to make sure that nothing impeded their homecoming.

The Safe-Zone, Hilltop, and the Kingdom kept in contact through written correspondence that they had perfected during their war with the Saviors. Each community had delegated mail duties to respective individuals and a weekly mailing system was established. It was how Rick and Michonne had kept in touch with one another when he had no time or opportunity to visit with her and their children.

Michonne sent beautifully penned letters to Rick detailing the work she was undertaking. Not only was she helping with training newcomers, but she was also instrumental in setting up a more democratic governing body whereby all decisions did not solely belong to the King and his advisors. She and Carol had organized a buddy system for children and young people who were orphaned by the terrors of their world.

Her yoga classes were still a hit, much to Rick's chagrin, with the local menfolk. She teased him about the moniker that had been bestowed upon him by the residents of the Kingdom: The Famous Rick Grimes.

She also sent recipes, polaroid pictures, and drawings that Judith had created for her Daddy. The occasional short letter from Carl was included in her correspondence, too. She kissed each letter before handing it over to be delivered.

Rick wrote about how the repairs, fortifications, and expansions were going. He spoke about the tenacity of their fellow survivors; how everyone was committed to making their lives work. It gave him more appreciation for what his wife had done in the Kingdom.

He detailed how much he was missing her and the kids. How he had tried the recipes she given him. How he had hoped that she liked the baggy workout clothing he had sent just for her to wear during her yoga classes.

He wrote about how beautiful she looked in the photos. How he missed her kisses and their lovemaking. How he could not wait to kiss her all over her body; to taste her sweetness; to make her come. How he kept her panties from each new tryst under his pillow for his private enjoyment.

He told her about how the time spent apart had afforded him time to think and reflect. How he was working through his issues daily; how her absence spurred him on. How even in her absence, he had never felt more in love and connected to her.

"Rick! Behind you!" called Gabriel.

Rick spun around just in time to have the walker clasp onto him and drag him down. His machete was knocked from his hand because of the force of the fall. He wrestled with the walking corpse for a moment as he tried to gain the upper hand. The creature had little weight to it, but the two of them had fallen awkwardly.

The adrenaline coursing through Rick's body had masked the pain in his ankle. He did not realize that he had twisted it. After pushing the walker backwards, his hand was free to reach for this machete. As soon as he got a firm grip on it, he slammed the blade into the cranium of the creature, causing it to flop down on top of him. Blood, brain matter, and bits of skull dropped onto his clothing. It registered in his mind that he would need to get cleaned up, once again, before his wife and children returned. As he tried to stand, a sharp pain shot through his ankle.

…..

The fields that they passed were shades of gold and brown, highlighted by the rays of the autumnal sun. Judith slept soundly next to her mother in the back of the horse-drawn cart while Carl rode up front and kept a look-out. All things considered, it was a peaceful journey. The breeze held off its usual chill and was mild against their faces. The clouds disappeared from the cobalt sky the closer they got to the Safe-Zone.

A small smile graced Michonne's face as they passed familiar landmarks. Soon she would be reunited with her husband. She was content with where they were in their relationship. Rick was doing much better emotionally, and she had made a difference in their neighboring community. There was no longer anything discordant between them.

They had taken the opportunity, and the time, to do what was needed. They were ready to move forward. Michonne was eager to enter the gates of Alexandria and be greeted by the love of her life. She leaned back and closed her eyes, hoping a small siesta would expedite the trip.

…..

Judith squirmed excitedly on Michonne's lap as they came to a halt inside the walls of the Safe-Zone. After her mother had told her to keep an eye out for her daddy, the little girl was eager to see her father's face.

"Mommy," she said disappointedly. "He's not here."

Michonne scanned the area once more, and realized her daughter was right; Rick was not there to meet them. Carl turned back to look at them, wearing the same concerned expression as his mother. They both knew Rick had been waiting for the longest time for their return; he would not miss it if he could help it. Michonne climbed out of the cart, and lifted Judith down, before she approached one of the residents who was guarding the gate.

"Hey," she started. "Have you seen Rick Grimes around?"

"Yeah," the young man replied. "He's in the infirmary."

"What? Why?"

"He went out with the crew that cleared the road and got hurt…"

Before the man could explain what had happened, Michonne had told Carl to watch his sister, and then sprinted off in the direction of the hospice. She ran up the steps, and bolted into the building, not offering an amicable greeting to one of the Alexandrians tasked with caring for the sick and wounded.

"Where is he?" she asked, almost completely breathless. "Where's Rick? Where's my husband?"

…..

The sounds of Rick's laughter wafted into the hallway, even though his and his wife's bedroom door was closed. They were preparing for bed, after reuniting and sharing a meal together with their children. Michonne continued her nightly routine, as her loving spouse waited for her.

"You can keep laughing all you want," she said, as she wrapped her hair in the new scarf he had gifted her with. "But I thought you were hurt badly."

"You rushed in there like I was on my deathbed," he said before chortling once again. He was enjoying teasing her very much.

"Well, forgive me for being concerned about my husband," she retorted, not at all sorry for overreacting to the news that he was injured.

"It just goes to show how much you missed me," he smiled, adjusting his foot from where it was set elevated against two cushions.

"I did miss you," she agreed, as she glanced down at him. He was wearing only his boxer shorts, though there was a slight chill in the night air.

"I was hopin' to be in peak physical condition for when you got home," Rick half-joked as he reclined on their bed and watched Michonne, dressed in her peach-colored nighty, apply lotion to her lovely skin.

"I'm just happy you're okay," she said with a smile. "You don't have to go out with every road clearing team, you know."

"I know," he replied. "I just wanted to make sure nothing got in the way of you and the kids comin' back to me."

She placed the bottle to the side table next to her cat sculpture, and then leaned down to kiss his temple, before saying, "And we appreciate everything you've done for us."

Swiftly, Rick took hold of his wife and drew her nearer to him until she was straddling his lap. He sat up, cupped her face and then pressed a passionate kiss to her lips. Hungrily, he deepened the kiss as his hands searched her body. He was already set hard by the time she broke the kiss and leaned her brow against his. Discreetly, he reached under his pillow and found her panties that he had held on to when she had first left. He held them up and said, "Put these on for me."

"I am not putting on dirty underwear, Rick," she said. "Even if they are my own. I mean, come on, we've gotten used to a certain standard of living again."

"I've washed 'em since you've been gone," he said with a wicked grin. "They got me through a lot of lonely nights. Just wanted to see you wearing them while I blow your back out."

She felt a quiver snake its way through her body at the change in his tone. She brushed his curls away from his face, stared into his eyes, and said, "Daddy, you're hurt. You won't be blowing anything out."

Rick brought his lips to her neck where he kissed the spot that he knew drove her wild. He then brought his mouth to her earlobe, sucking it between his pink lips.

"It's okay, Mama," he said, whispering in her ear. "I might be hurt, but my dick still works. Hmmm, can you feel it?"

Michonne was throbbing as she felt his rigid length between her thighs. She ground against him, feeling every inch of his manhood. She had missed him so very much. She kissed him once more, and then took the undergarment from his hand. She lifted herself from his lap, found her balance by resting a hand on his shoulder, and stood on the mattress; Rick gripped Michonne's hips to steady her.

She stepped into the panties, and drew them slowly up her thighs, giving her husband a seductive show. She then pulled her nightie up over her head, freeing her breasts, before straddling Rick's lap once again. The couple shared another deep, needy kiss as Michonne rolled her hips and rubbed her covered pussy over Rick's covered dick. Her arousal drenching the fabric of both of their underwear.

Rick let out a growl before thrusting upwards, trying to gain as much friction as he could. This teasing they were both engaging in was driving him wild; he was trembling with need. Even though he was injured, and knew he could not have Michonne exactly how he wanted to, he was going to make sure he would last for as long as she needed him to.

He brought his lips to her bare clavicle, kissing and sucking at her smooth skin. His mouth then descended to her breast; his moist, pink tongue lapped over her stiff, brown nipple before he sucked it between his lips.

"Hmmmm," Michonne moaned as she continued to grind against Rick.

Somewhat impatiently, he removed the pillows, tossing them to the floor, and reclined in the bed, flat on his back, while simultaneously lifting Michonne's hips. She let out a little squeal, but did not resist. He drew her hips up over his chest so that her bountiful backside was sitting against his pectorals and his face was close to her sex. He could smell her piquant, enticing aroma through the scant fabric of her panties.

Michonne shifted so that her legs were in a comfortable position with her feet tucked slightly underneath of her husband, and extended one arm to balance against the head of their bed. She smiled down at Rick as he drew her damp panties to the side and licked the length of her slit. She moaned loudly and he repeated the action a few more times before sucking her clit into his mouth.

"Oh, Rick," she whimpered, before rolling her hips. He gripped her waist with one hand, and massaged her breast with the other, all while continuing to devour her pussy. The action of her swaying hips, coupled with his deft lips and tongue brought Michonne to orgasm quickly. She called out his name once more as she came in his mouth.

Rick lapped up all of her juices and smiled to himself before he shifted and lifted her off of his chest. She parted her legs and slid down the length of his body; her arousal leaving a wet trail over his firm abdomen. She quickly found her balance and straddled his lap once more. Her bare skin met his, as Rick had drawn his boxer shorts down, freeing his erection. Her softness met his hardness as he guided his cock inside of her engorged lips.

"Fuck," he murmured as she enveloped his rigid dick with her warm, tight sex.

He ran his hands over her smooth skin, cupping her breasts, and rubbing her sides. He could not stop touching her as she rocked on top of him; her own hands pressed to his chest for leverage as she leaned forward to kiss him. She faintly registered her own taste on his lips; knowing how much he loved to pleasure her with his mouth urged her on. She wanted to make him feel as good as he did her.

Michonne clenched her walls around Rick as she slid up and down his impossibly hard cock. They each let out pleasured moans between their quick, keen breaths.

"Hmmm," Rick breathed. She smiled to herself and repeated the gesture, this time clenching tighter and moving slower, causing her husband to curse loudly.

"Fuck," he cried as his eyes rolled shut, while he pushed upwards. "I've missed you so much."

"God, I've missed you, too," she managed, as she continued to ride him, meeting his fervent thrusts with equal enthusiasm. They clasped their hands together and persisted with their grinding and thrusting until they each reached the apex of their pleasure and release washed over them.

…..

The satisfied lovers laid naked in one another's embrace; their eyes were closed and their breathing was even. Michonne rested her head against Rick's chest while he traced invisible patterns against the skin of her back. He felt her smile, and then heard a little laugh.

"What is it?" he asked, rubbing his thumb against her shoulder.

"Just thinking," she offered.

"About what?" he queried.

"You," she admitted. "The Famous Rick Grimes."

He feigned annoyance, and said, "Don't you start, too."

She chuckled. Her body trembled slightly against his as the joviality of the moment rang through her being. Her hand stroked his chest as she said, "If only they really knew you, Rick Grimes. How amazing you are."

"You're the amazing one," he replied, with a smile of his own.

"Shhh," she offered, before drawing him into a tighter embrace. "Let me compliment you, okay?"

"Okay," he offered happily.

They fell into a comfortable silence, enjoying the company of the other, and being wordlessly grateful to be together. He placed a kiss to the top of her head and then spoke.

"You know, that day at the prison fence, when I got you out there, I didn't realize that you'd be this important to me," said Rick; Michonne smiled at him sweetly and listened while he continued his admission. "You were changin' me, bringin' me back to who I was before the whole world changed. Before I was full of anger and resentment. Even when I was stupid enough to even consider handin' you over that time, when I didn't deserve it, you were makin' me better. That whole time when you were just there, you were healing me; makin' me stronger and smarter; you were bringing the best out in me. And you've done that for me, whether you realized it or not, this whole time. Your choice to leave, to give me space to process everything that was building up for so long, that's what I needed, even if I didn't like it. I'm a better person for it. I'm a better man because of you. And I know now that I started to heal the moment that I carried you inside those fences. Even now, you're healing me. You're bringin' out the best in me; causing me to reflect on who I am, and the decisions I make."

Michonne felt tears welling in her eyes. All she ever wanted was for Rick to be the best he could be; for him to be at peace. For him to be happy.

"It's what a wife does," she offered humbly, reaching up and sweeping a damp curl away from his brow.

Rick smiled at Michonne, and ran his hand up and down her back before saying, "I've had to make a lot of choices in my life. I got a lot wrong; got some right. But best decision I made was lettin' my heart open up to you."

"Same here," she whispered, before the pair of sated lovers shared a loving, languid kiss. "In all of this, you and the kids were my best decision."

"I love you," Rick proclaimed with all of his heart and soul.

"I love you, too," Michonne answered.

"Thank you," he added. "For always having my back."

"Always," she replied. "Thank you for the sacrifices you make every single day. And for the past few weeks. I know it wasn't easy for you. I'm proud of you."

"There's nothin' in this world I wouldn't do for you," he whispered. "I'd do anything for you."

"Anything?"

"Yes," he responded with sincerity. "Because you've done so much for me; you saved me when I didn't even know I needed saving. You loved me when I didn't deserve it."

"You deserve all the love," she offered, somewhat shakily, as her heart swelled with adoration. "When I told you we needed to be apart, it wasn't to hurt you..."

"I know," he replied softly.

"It wasn't for the community," she admitted. "It was for you. I saw that there was this rage and resentment inside of you. I didn't want that to eat you up."

"I would never resent you," he whispered.

"I know, Rick," she said in earnest. "But you would beat yourself up over things that are out of your control. I wanted to show you that we could be apart, and still love one another completely. I know you've lost people in the past; I know you've been betrayed before, but you don't have to ever question my loyalty, Rick. You don't ever have to be afraid of losing me, okay?"

He smiled and kissed the top of her head, before replying, "Okay."

"Because after everything," she whispered while nestling her body closer to his. "I'm still with you, and I always will be."


End file.
